Try It On For Size
by shippingslut
Summary: If it meant keeping her family healthy - not just in body, but in mind too, Carol would have gladly carried the burdens alone. It wasn't something she'd wanted to share with anyone, no matter how utterly isolated it made her feel. But especially not Rick Grimes.


**A/N: Okay. So I haven't written anything in awhile. At least it's been awhile by my standards. Absolutely nothing was coming to me, so I decided to play around a little with a ship I've always been somewhat intrigued by. This is my first time ever attempting to write Carol, especially from her POV, but I figured something different would be refreshing.**

**I mention two other ships in this and before anyone gets upset, it's not by any means how I feel about them, just me playing a game of "what-ifs" and exaggerating the truth to fit my needs for this fic.**

* * *

She'd never wanted Rick to finally understand. Carol wouldn't have wished it on anyone, even if it was a lonely road to walk, even if being the only one who saw the world for what it truly was terrified her. But she especially wouldn't have wished it on Rick. It didn't matter that each time she'd had to get her hands dirty that she'd prayed there was someone else to share the grunt work with. Or that after she'd killed Lizzie, Carol had wanted nothing more than to look into the eyes of another person that could relate to how she'd felt afterwards, even if only a little.

Tyreese had almost admired her for it, Carol could tell. It was how he'd managed to forgive her for Karen and David. Because he'd looked towards her as someone braver than him, someone who clearly knew more about what it took to stay alive. And it had stayed that way until the day he'd died.

And if she'd had it her way, they all would have. If it meant keeping her family healthy, not just in body, but in mind too, Carol would have gladly carried the burdens alone. It wasn't something she'd want to share with anyone, no matter how utterly isolated it made her feel.

But especially not Rick Grimes.

No, definitely not the blue-eyed, optimistic, clean cut man who had shown up at their camp with his head full of hope and kind words in his mouth. She still remembered him thanking her for washing his clothes, a small act that had spoken volumes as to the type of person he was. She wouldn't have wished that boyish smile away for anything, not then, and not even later.

When he'd left her on the side of the road, Carol still couldn't find it in herself to hate him. And God, how she'd wanted to. But that ignorance had said it all, all that Carol needed to know. Maybe he couldn't just be a farmer, but could she honestly begrudge him for wanting to? When she'd driven away in tears it hadn't been because she was upset with Rick, but almost envious. Envious that everyone had more innocence left in them than she did.

And Rick deserved his innocence. She'd watched him try his hardest to hold on to it through everything, and while it'd disappointed her at times, she'd known if anyone in the world deserved it, it was him. Rick with the two small children to keep alive, Rick who had tried his hardest to keep them all alive. Even when he'd made all the wrong calls, he'd been trying his best. It wasn't Rick's fault that he wasn't as far gone as her, that he couldn't see things as clearly.

Until now.

Now when she looked into Rick's eyes, Carol knew she was finally looking at an equal in every sense of the word. Not only were his hands finally as dirty as hers, but the same weight was pressing down on his shoulders too. And that weight was so damn heavy to carry that even though it broke her heart, a heart she was surprised could still break, it was a relief too. One look into those blue eyes that used to be full of life, that were now more often times than not glazed over, hiding a man that felt too far gone to reach, eased her mind.

Maybe she hadn't wanted it to happen to Rick, but damn if it wasn't a comfort.

* * *

"I envy their ignorance."

It was the first words out of his mouth as he entered her bedroom, his hair still wet from the shower he'd taken to wash off Pete's blood spatter, the scent of Irish Spring coming in with him.

And what would have once been weird, Rick's presence in her bedroom, now felt like second nature. It was amazing how much they'd seeked the other out since coming to Alexandria, and while the bedroom was new territory, it wasn't unreasonable. Everyone else was still downstairs, still reeling from the night's events, her room the only safe place to vent. Vent to someone who understood. A safe little cocoon where they'd be no judgment or admiration. Just the truth.

"Get used to it."

She answered without looking up from the gun she'd been cleaning, the very same one she'd stolen, the one she'd taken all while Rick had watched her back, helping her.

Helping each other. She'd never thought she'd lived to see the day again. And the smile that formed on her face at the thought wasn't nearly as upsetting as it should've been. Carol was supposed to try and make Rick whole again, that was her job, her role.

She wasn't supposed to be comforted that he was as broken as her.

But the weight his body added to her bed as he sat down next to her was comforting.

He didn't reply to her statement, but Carol could see him nod from the corner of her eyes, his mind still replaying what had happened as he eased himself against her headboard. She could have asked him why he was there, but she didn't need to. Instead, she finished what she was doing with the pistol in her hands, waiting for him to go on.

"Michonne put her katana back on." He finally said, his eyes still staring at the wall in front of him, expressing what Carol knew was a fear.

"It's probably for the best. Pete did kill a man with it. It doesn't belong on a wall, it belongs on her back."

Carol kept her eyes on the job she was doing as she talked, but she felt Rick's body sigh next to her, his head nodding along at her words until he finally spoke again.

"I know that. You know that. I thought I'd enjoy it when she knew it too."

"You never will." She assured him, telling him what he already knew. "But the good news is that she didn't want to. She fought it. She's still trying to deny it."

"She's not like us." Rick finished for her, and for the first time Carol felt his gaze land on her.

Still, she didn't look back. It was bad enough they finally had something in common. She wouldn't make it hurt worse by letting him look her in the eyes and see himself staring back. It was probably anyone's biggest fear and she couldn't blame them for it.

"Is that why you haven't...went there, yet?" She asked instead, trying to find the best way to word it. "We all see how you look at her. How she looks at you."

And that much was true. It'd been going on since the prison, everyone could see it, everyone except Rick and Michonne. Of course, they'd both been too busy with anything else to see the chemistry and rightfully so. Michonne had still been learning to trust the entire group, Rick still dealing with Lori. But everyone had stood back, patiently waiting for the day to come.

When they'd all reunited after Terminus, Carol had been surprised that it hadn't happened yet. Especially when she learned they'd spent a lot of that journey with each other. Rick was an attractive man, Michonne was a beautiful woman, Carol had thought for sure it wouldn't be much longer.

Until she realized Rick was like her now.

But still, she wanted to see if he was aware of if. If Rick would give her the same reasoning for his and Michonne's lack of forward movement that she did to herself for her and Daryl.

"What's the point?" He asked her, his eyes still watching her hands until she finally finished and sat the gun down on the night stand, finally giving him her full attention. "I'll never be what she wants me to be. What she deserves. I had one woman look at me in horror at the things I've done. I don't need two. Maybe at one point the potential was there, but..."

"That ship sailed." Carol finished for him, thinking about Daryl.

She'd never put too much faith in her and Daryl's relationship, but the thought had definitely occurred to her before. What it would be like to finally cross that line in the sand, to stop just joking about it and actually do it.

But Rick was right.

Daryl and Michonne just didn't understand some things. It was why Daryl was out scouting, looking for new people to bring into the walls of Alexandria while Carol had been plotting on driving them out. Why Michonne struggled to put her weapon back on her body, and Rick had been eager to hide a few extras on his.

"There are worse things."

His comment pulled her from her thoughts, her eyes finally coming to meet his, forgetting that'd she been purposely trying to avoid the contact.

"Being alone for the rest of our lives." He went on, that familiar grin tugging on his lips, the one that always took shape when he was about to get sassy. "Nowadays, the rest of our lives might only be a few years. We'll die before it becomes unbearable."

His dark humor forced a smile out of her, she couldn't help it. It was the type of thing Daryl would have grunted at if he'd heard Carol say it. Or better yet, the type of thing that would have had Michonne grabbing Rick's hand, her eyes growing wide with love as she scoffed at such negativity.

But it was type of thing that was true, and only two screwed up people could appreciate the truth in it.

"Don't worry. I think we'll live to see it become unbearable. We have walls, now. Walls that ensure us a long, miserable life."

Rick's laughter that followed her words let Carol knew he got it, a healthy chuckle that forced a grin out of her too, her hand landing on his just to try and calm them before everyone downstairs heard them laughing and came to ask what was so funny.

The touch immediately quieted him, a long sigh escaping his lips as they both settled down.

As she watched his eyes close for a quick second, his head leaning against the headboard, Carol took a moment to really look at the man next to her. How many times had she looked at Rick? More than she could count. But it'd been a long time since she'd really inspected him, had taken note of the wrinkles by his eyes or the stubble on his face that was gray now, proof of how much they'd gone through.

And sitting there, with her hand still on his, Carol remembered how once upon a time she'd been envious of Lori for having such a gentle husband. But she could also recall how just a short while later, she'd pitied the woman for having such a cold one, one who would turn his back on his wife while she was pregnant.

But now?

With his eyes closed, his breathing relaxing, his large hand staying still under her touch, Carol just seen a partner.

A partner she'd never wanted, would've never asked for, but a partner all the same. One that had been down the same horrible road she had, one who'd witnessed her journey since the beginning and vice versa.

Just the idea that someone else could understand was almost enough to make her pull her hand away from his. While she had no qualms with comforting anyone else in their group, it was hard to extend that favor to Rick. Because admitting Rick needed comfort would mean admitting that maybe she did too.

Carol almost pulled her hand away, terrified at the realization. She felt Rick's hand clench, reading her mind, his next words coming out like a gentle plea.

"Don't."

Rick Grimes might have hurt her plenty in their past, but Carol wouldn't deny him a simple human touch. Not when she knew her biggest fear was that one day she'd admit she needed it to and the person would just pull away.

Instead she just leaned back against the headboard too, refusing to acknowledge what he'd said, at least with words. But she kept her hand over his his, even managed to stroke his knuckles a few times with her fingertips before drawing a lazy sigh out of his lips as she settled next to him, trying to get comfortable.

And it wasn't as hard to get comfortable as she'd assumed it'd be. Not just physically. Not the backache, stretched-out legs type of comfort. But mentally. Sitting there in silence with Rick, a small part of their bodies staying connected, well, it could have been worse.

When he realized she wasn't going to stop, Carol felt him relaxing again, his hand opening up and flipping over and before she knew it she was stroking his palm instead.

She thought he was going to fall asleep which was fine by her. Let the man pass out, then she'd take her exit and they both could pretend that a moment of weakness had never occurred. Hell, she was willing to sleep on the couch if it meant that when she woke up Rick's eyes would be icy again, his posture stiff, that everything would be back in its correct place.

Just the idea of being let off the hook and escaping that bedroom was enough to make Carol roll over on her side and face him, to position her body better as to will him to sleep quicker. It was just one more job she needed to do, one she'd put her all into like all the rest. It was what she told herself when she worked her hand up his forearm, slowly running her fingertips back down again before repeating it all over again, adding more pressure each time.

"I'm sorry."

His voice almost made her jump, her eyes had been glued to where they were touching, growing a little heavy in the process.

Maybe her efforts weren't having their desired effect on Rick, the proof in his ability to still speak, but Carol would've been a liar if she'd claimed it hadn't almost relaxed her straight to sleep.

"For what?" She finally asked, shooting a glance towards his face, praying his eyes were closed.

They weren't.

He was staring over at her under heavy eyelids, inspecting her face for the reaction to his words. And she refused to give him one, just continued to rub her fingers down his arm, ashamed when she realized she was admiring the muscles in his forearm, how hard they felt under her touch, how utterly masculine. Something she hadn't felt in far too long.

"Everything." He answered, and Carol had almost forgotten what it was in response to.

But just almost.

The truth was, she didn't want to talk about it. Not right then, maybe not ever. She just wanted him to close his eyes again, for his breathing to slow, for to sleep to overcome him.

"Do you trust me?" He asked, dead set on forcing her to speak. Statements, she could ignore. But questions were meant to be answered.

Still, she took a moment to consider her response. They owed each other the truth and for once, she trusted he wouldn't get angry no matter what the reply was.

While she debated it, she stole a glance over at him, happy to see his eyes closing during the lull in the conversation. He was so close to passing out, Carol couldn't help herself, doing the very thing that she'd used many times to get other men to sleep. It'd never failed her before and maybe if she was lucky, she wouldn't have to answer many more questions, wouldn't have to keep lying to herself about how much she was enjoying the touching too.

Removing her hand from his arm before he could even notice the sensation missing - she placed it on his stomach instead.

It was weird, there was no denying it. But if making things a little more weird ultimately saved her from the already strange situation, she was willing to sacrifice. It was what she'd been doing since the world had gone to shit, doing something horrible to save her from a fate even more terrible. And rubbing Rick's stomach paled in comparison to some of the deeds she'd been forced to do before. In fact, it was almost pleasant. He was surprisingly soft, surprisingly at ease under her caress, never once calling attention to the fact that her hand had moved.

Instead he asked his question again and this time Carol knew there was no sidestepping her answer. Nor was a belly rub going to quiet him.

"You trust me?"

She just sighed, her fingers dipping down a little further than before, right above the waistband of his jeans. All she wanted was for Rick to settle down and leave her be. The situation was already too intimate, sharing her feelings wouldn't help matters.

"Yes, I trust you." She finally answered, praying it was enough.

Of course it wasn't. Nothing was ever going to shut him up.

"I don't mean trust me to get the job done." He replied, sliding his body down further on the bed until his face was right next to hers. "I mean trust me not to leave you on the side of the road again."

He look towards her at the words and Carol almost looked away, wanted to look at anything but Rick. But she'd never backed down from Rick before, and she wasn't going to start now.

"I think I trust you as much as I could possibly trust anyone." She finally whispered back, giving him the utter truth.

Rick just nodded, accepting the answer, understanding the meaning. That she trusted him more than most, but still not blindly. That a part of her would always fear the possibility of rejection.

She thought maybe he was done with questions, finally giving into to her fingernails scratching him through his t-shirt. Maybe all her hard work was paying off. But instead he asked another, this one more playful than the last, a small smile tugging on his lips.

It was a much easier one to answer.

"But you trust me to get the job done though?" He asked, looking rather pleased with himself.

She just shook her head, trying to ignore him. Not wanting to stroke his ego, concentrating on stroking his stomach instead.

"Yeah, I trust you to get the job done." She reassured him, feeling like she was giving a small boy a pat on the head who was begging for praise.

Carol had expected him to smile again at the statement, but instead she watched as his eyes drifted shut, finally submitting to the attention she was paying his stomach. Her hands were staying below his belly button, soft scratches, a few gentle strokes.

It was his breath catching that caught her attention first, then his stomach contracting under her hand.

When her eyes traveled the length of his body, she almost immediately pulled away when her gaze landed on the bulge in his jeans. But it took a moment for her brain the catch up to what was happening, giving Rick a few more strokes through his shirt before realizing the bulge in his jeans was straining against the fabric, his hips trying to restrain themselves from thrusting up, forcing her to pull her hand away as quickly as could.

"Rick."

She spoke his name like a little boy in trouble too, keeping her voice stern. And God, she'd never wanted to strangle him more than she did in that moment, even more than the time he'd abandoned her. He was supposed to fall asleep, not get aroused.

"I'm sorry." He answered, and she refused to look his way, refused to see the blush creep onto his cheeks. "It's been awhile okay? You don't gotta acknowledge the elephant in the room."

Carol almost laughed out loud. He didn't want her to acknowledge it, but she surely couldn't ignore it.

How long had been since she'd seen an aroused man? Laid in bed next to one? Touched one? It wasn't fair that it had to be Rick of all people.

"Don't flatter yourself, I highly doubt it's an elephant." She finally told him, feeling snarky suddenly, annoyed he'd put her in such a position.

What had he expected her to do? Keep stroking him?

Finally, she looked towards him, surprised to see him laughing, shaking his head in embarrassment.

But Carol honestly didn't care if he was embarrassed. Once upon a time she'd thought she'd never have a partner in him only to be proven wrong. She wasn't about to be proven wrong twice in one night, because never once in their time together had she ever once considered Rick anything but a platonic friend. Sometimes not even that.

But he wasn't the only one that it'd been a long time for. The last man she'd slept with had been Ed and that had been a far cry from enjoyable. As much as she hated to admit it, her curiosity was getting the best of her. He was still just laying there in awkward silence, his cock still straining against his jeans. At the end of the day, an aroused man was an aroused man. It was getting harder not to imagine what he'd look like if his jeans weren't obstructing her view, how he'd feel if she wrapped her hand around him.

And she really didn't want to think about Rick in a sexual way.

It didn't matter if they suddenly had a bond she'd never expected. Or, if truth be told, he was rather easy on the eyes. Nor did it matter that the few occasions Carol had let her mind wander there, she was only human, she'd always imagined Rick to be a much better lover than Ed.

Maybe Rick wasn't actually asking anything of her, but Carol had a funny suspicion that if she were to put her hand back to where it had been, maybe even a little lower, he wouldn't object. He was only human too.

She wanted to tell him to leave. But at the same time she knew if he left right then, that it would be forever on her mind. Maybe she'd seen the man cry, go crazy, had guarded his back while he relieved himself in the woods. But knowing in that moment they both were thinking about his penis was a little too strange, something not easily forgotten. And she really didn't want to look at Rick from there on out and just think about his cock.

It was why when he spoke again, she didn't immediately object. Already Carol was ready to do anything that would take attention away his crotch, even if it meant directing it onto herself.

"Roll over."

Still, his suggestion caused her to pause, to frown at him.

"Why?" She asked, always suspicious.

"You said you trust me?"

She nodded, not entirely sure she meant it anymore. But whatever he was up to, it was working. Already she'd forgotten about his...situation.

"Then roll over."

Rick was looking her straight in the eye, trying to get his point across. She knew that look all too well. It was the same way he looked every time he'd ever suggested something to her that he knew she'd shoot down, his blue eyes begging for her to just have a little faith, to just trust him.

Finally, she just sighed.

Carol would let him win this one. Maybe whatever plan he had up his sleeve would actually work, God knew he'd been on a roll lately.

Feeling like an idiot, she rolled over onto her side with her back facing him. She had no idea what he was about to do, or why. Instead she just stared at the wall while she felt him move behind her, arranging himself so his chest was almost pressed against her.

It wasn't until she felt his hand on her shoulder that she completely stiffened.

"Relax." He whispered and his breath was so hot against her ear, Carol felt herself shiver, trying to ignore it. "I'm just trying to distract you."

She believed him. Never in her life would Carol suspect Rick of putting the moves on her. The problem was, he didn't know that he wasn't the only one who had sex on the brain. He didn't realize that a simple touch, something she hadn't experienced in too long, was like playing with fire.

Still, she tried to take his advice for once. Letting out a long sigh, she rolled her shoulders, officially angry at herself that Rick could tell she was uncomfortable. But it made sense, he seemed to understand everything else.

"I think all the guns need to be under our control."

As soon as he said the words, his strong grip began to massage her shoulder. And as good as it felt to have her stiff muscles soothed and worked, Carol could only concentrate on his statement, her mind eager to switch gears.

"I know. And we need to make sure everyone here is trained on how to use them." She added, closing her eyes as his hand continued to grip her skin, moving down to work between her shoulder blades.

It was easier to enjoy the massage now that her mind was back on the job. But the pressure he was applying felt so good that she almost didn't hear his next words. All she could concentrate on was the how her muscles were starting to relax, that the tightness in her chest was beginning to fade. No one had paid her body even an iota of attention in years. She'd forgotten how good it felt to have someone else touch her, to make the effort to please her - even if it was just a back rub.

"You should teach the kids." He whispered, and Carol could almost imagine his stubble rubbing against her face, how it'd sting, how maybe it wouldn't be so bad. "You have a way with them."

That time she laughed, appreciating the effort he was putting into it.

"Are you trying to stroke my ego?" She asked, feeling his hand travel down to her lower back, his fingertips stroking her flesh, digging in nice and hard.

"Maybe." He answered just as his hand slipped under her shirt, officially making skin on skin contact. "Is it working?"

Something was working.

Carol didn't even answer his question. All she could think about was his rough hand on her skin, slowly covering every inch of her, how soft his touch was when it traveled over her sides, how it made her yearn for him to stroke her belly just the way she had him. She wouldn't have even objected if for once he decided to be braver than her - if Rick would have slipped his hand down a little lower.

It was the very thought that made her shift uncomfortably, an action she immediately regretted when her ass pushed against his crotch, causing a grunt to escape his lips.

He was still hard.

"Sorry."

They both said it at the same time, a whispered apology, but Carol wasn't sure she was sorry anymore. She wasn't sure Rick was either.

It was too late to feel weird, to second guess what they were getting themselves into. Her ass was pressed against his dick and the truth was, she wanted it there. Maybe she'd regret it the next day and everyday there after, but in that moment, with her body starting to come to life from his touch, she wanted him to grab her hips and grind against her, to allow her to close her eyes and just enjoy lifes pleasures for once.

"I can leave." He suggested, and that time his stubble did press against her cheek, his mouth so close to her ear that Carol thought he was about to kiss her skin.

"You can." She agreed, not telling him to go or asking him to stay, just staying still, waiting on his next move.

Never in her life did she'd think she'd be laying down with Rick, of all people, wishing he'd leave but silently pleading for him to stay. Carol told herself it was no big deal, just simple human biology at work. Neither one of them had been touched in so long, it was only natural.

But she also knew that Rick was probably the only one who understood her enough to even manage to get her in such a position, to somehow lower her defenses enough for it to even happen.

"Or... we could keep talking about the guns."

He whispered it into her ear just as his hand found her hip, squeezing it tight, pushing himself against her ass, letting her feel just how very hard he was. And she pushed back, gripping his hand, begging him not to move, or begging him to do it again, just begging.

She didn't want to talk about guns, she just wanted him to shut up so she could pretend that it wasn't him that was pressed against her. That it wasn't Rick who grinded into her once more, drawing the first moan out of her mouth. And he got the message. Instead of speaking again, he continued to roll his hips behind her and Carol could imagine those same hips rolling between her thighs instead, how good it would feel when his cock wasn't trapped against her ass anymore, but inside of her instead.

When she felt his teeth graze her shoulder while he held her in place, thrusting against her, Carol knew she was done for. That there was no going back.

Already her body was reacting more intensely than it had with any other man - her nipples were tight and hard, the pressure in her stomach moving down quickly, the aching between her legs increasing with each thrust from his hips.

It was his moan that did her in. She'd never been with a man that was vocal in bed, that expressed their pleasure with no hesitation. Rick was a lot of things, but shy wasn't one of them. And if he wasn't going to be shy, she wasn't going to be either.

Instead, she rolled onto her back, pulling him on top of her.

And as soon as he positioned himself between her thighs, he grinded against her again, this time hitting the spot she'd needed him to hit all along.

After that it was easy to run her fingers through his hair, to freely enjoy the harsh kisses he was planting against her neck. It didn't matter anymore that it was Rick. In fact, just knowing it was him that was drawing the whimpers past her lips almost made it better, added an element she'd never expected to enjoy.

Rick Grimes was between her legs, pushing against her, forcing her mind to imagine the moment when there was no fabric between their bodies.

With his face buried in her neck still sucking and kissing, Carol wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

Her desperation was obvious, but so was his. He held still for a second, pressing his throbbing cock against her, his rough lips sucking her skin so hard, she knew he would leave a bruise. But instead of objecting, she held his head in place, her hips rutting off the bed to add to the friction between their bodies, moaning again when he did.

When he pulled away and reached for the hem of her shirt, Carol helped maneuver herself out of it. She wasn't even the slightest bit self conscious when he went for her bra next, unclasping it with unexpected ease. Not even when his eyes traveled over her chest and devoured the sight in from of him did she mind.

If anything that icy look in his eyes only heightened her arousal, made her miss his thrusts between her legs even more.

Ed had been rough just for the sake of being cruel. But Rick was feasting upon her because his need was that bad, need that equaled her own, something she understood. She wanted to pull him back down on her, to have his rough hands squeeze and pinch her nipples, to offer some relief from the ache she was feeling. But when he took his own shirt off instead, Carol couldn't complain about that either.

How could she object to a strong man, on his knees between her legs, his hard chest on display in front of her? Her eyes drank in every last detail, from the hair on his chest, all the way down to the lines above his hips. As soon as she remembered she could actually touch him, she did, rubbing a hand all the way down his skin, following the trail of hair that led underneath his jeans.

When he finally returned his hands to her body, she whimpered, closing her eyes as soon as his strong hold found her nipples. Carol actually held them in place, pleading for for him to continue. Rick held her hard buds between his fingers, giving them a rough pinch, one that forced her ass off the bed. He did it again, his blue eyes watching her squirm from his touch, pressing his cock against her once more.

And the pleasure from having him stimulate both places at once was almost too much.

Still, he did it again, taking no pity on her body. Inflicting pleasure on her that was so intense it was almost painful. When she moaned again, he leaned in, grinding against her once more, his lips right by her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Shhh."

Carol knew she needed to be quiet, even if her moans weren't too loud yet. But she also knew his grunts were equally as loud, that Rick was only trying to remind her of that fact that he was bringing her such pleasure.

"Shut up."

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, not that she really cared. And Rick just laughed, another breathy noise against her ear that just made her need more from him.

Finally, he let go her nipples and reached down instead, unbuttoning her jeans. He slide them off, along with her underwear, carelessly tossing them in the floor without a second thought. When his hands reached for his own belt buckle, Carol's eyes stayed glued on him.

She could feel his stare on her face but she refused to look up. He was watching for her reaction when he freed his hard cock from his jeans, and Carol didn't want him to see it etched on her face. The truth. That she was tired of the games, tired of the second guessing, just ready to have the man between her legs inside of her.

He finished easing himself out of his jeans, throwing them too, no doubt landing somewhere in the vicinity of her own.

And after he positioned himself back between her thighs, he hesitated.

Carol could feel his cock right at her entrance, waiting to enter. Waiting on what, she didn't know, not until he spoke.

"Look at me."

His request was rough, one she refused. Not because she didn't want to, but because she was afraid to. Looking Rick in the eye would be all too personal, even worse than having him pushing inside of her.

And when he understood her silence, he finally pushed inside of her, a rough stroke, forcing her wet walls to give way to his cock.

She expected him to accept the answer. To thrust into her hard and fast again like she wanted him to, what her body was screaming for. Already she was pulsing around his cock, begging for him to move, ready to feel some of the ache in her belly disappear as it traveled down between her legs, until the flickers of her walls turned into spasms.

Still, he refused to move.

Closing the distance between their bodies, pressing his chest to hers, Rick stayed inside of her, grabbing her face in his rough hand and forcing her to meet his eyes.

"Look at me."

With each word in his sentence, he pounded into her. Teasing her, showing her the relief she'd get if she'd just take notice of the person that was fucking her.

And finally, she did.

Carol met his eyes, allowed him to look into hers while his cock was still buried inside of her. He held her gaze when he rolled his hips again, didn't even look away when she moaned from the pleasure.

The man was forcing intimacy on her.

And maybe she wasn't as far gone as she thought, because the next time he pumped in his dick into her, Carol couldn't find it in herself to shy away from his hand on her chin, the one that was forcing her to look at him. Instead she allowed the pleasure to show on her face while continuing the eye contact.

He rewarded her with another thrust of his hips, deeper than ever before, his cock digging into her just like his eyes were.

Finally, she wrapped her legs around him, a silent plea to continue and he obeyed, thrusting into her again.

It wasn't until he was positive that she wouldn't look away that Rick started continously rolling his hips, his hand holding her chin tight, refusing to let go.

Carol felt the pressure in her body building, how every muscle tightened with each brutal stroke from his cock, moaning freely when the first flutters of her soaked walls began. The noise only fueled him on, causing him to pound into her harder than ever, his mouth hovering just over hers, refusing to connect his lips with hers.

Instead he held her still, moaning into her mouth as the same groans escaped her own, never once slowing down, never once looking away.

She felt it in her hands first, her shaking fingers digging into his shoulders just when her thighs began to shake too, until finally she couldn't fight it anymore. With Rick's eyes still staring into hers, she finally let go, allowing the pressure between their bodies to build, pushing her over the edge.

And Rick never took his eyes from her face as she climaxed, only continued to thrust into her, a harsh steady rhythm that had her walls clenching around his cock, whimpers filling the room.

It was no surprise when his orgasm quickly followed. Carol felt his cock's steady throbs building inside of her, pulsing from within, until finally it gave one hard jerk just as he pushed himself as deep as her body would allow. She felt her thick load fill her, his hips still pumping until every last dropped had been spilled.

She was thankful suddenly that he'd forced her to look at him. Carol was positive she'd never seen anything more arousing than watching a man's eyes while he came inside of her, just the sight his baby blues being lost in ecstasy was almost enough to make her body ache for more, even if she'd just been satisfied.

"If you ever tell anyone about this, I'll kill you." She finally panted with him still on top of her, trying to catch her breath as their bodies recovered.

It didn't seem right that she was so comfortable with Rick still between her legs, his cock still inside of her as she watched the sweat drip from his brow. But she was. So much so, that when he finally replied, she had to fight her smile.

"Pretty sure they heard it anyway."

She watched him smile back, a lazy grin that tugged on the corner of his lips. The boyish one that was rarely seen anymore.

Was it terrible that she wanted to taste him? Carol had already felt every part of him he had to offer except for those lips, at least not pressed against her own. His mouth had been pressed against her neck, but never once against her lips. Should she try it in for size too?

Before she could even answer, Rick made the decision for her, grabbing her chin again before finally closing the distance, giving her the only part left of him that she hadn't already explored.


End file.
